


you make me say oh

by freakywireshit



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, M/M, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, PIAU, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Trans Porn by Trans People, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 15:34:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15952298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freakywireshit/pseuds/freakywireshit
Summary: Hank goes down on Connor until he cries.That's it that's all I've got.





	you make me say oh

**Author's Note:**

  * For [biocomp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/biocomp/gifts).



> i have a lot of feelings about PIAU
> 
> AU belongs entirely to the lovely @biocomp this fic is written for. please read all of their works, they're genuinely stunning stuff. Title is from Sweetener - Ariana Grande because I'm nothing if not on the nose.

Connor’s thighs are twitching. Hank thinks it might be his favourite sight – actually scratch that, he _knows_ that it is his favourite sight. The muscles spasm visibly either side of him, and Hank runs a rough hand over the inside of one leg gently as he rests his cheek against the other. Connor flinches under his hand, barely noticeable. Anyone but Hank might have missed the gesture, but he doesn’t. He keeps his hand on the leg but it stills, fingers curling just enough to give the flesh a gentle squeeze.

 

“You good?”

 

He brings his eyes upward, fixed on the younger man’s as he waits. Connor’s chest heaves as he tries to bring his breathing under control, but it only takes a second for a nod to follow Hank’s question. Not satisfied he squeezes his fingers again, a little harder this time, and follows the movement with a small kiss pressed to the spot his cheek had been resting on the other leg. And then he waits.

 

Hank’s eyes don’t leave Connor’s and he doesn’t make any further attempts to move. He breathes in and out slowly, with enough effort that he knows Connor will be able to feel the cool air against the wetness between his thighs. A shiver runs down Connor’s thigh and he squirms against the sheets, but finally he lets his jaw hang slack for a moment before mumbling out a verbal response.

 

“Y-yeah,” his voice has a slight rasp to it, and the sound makes Hank smirk, “I’m good, Hank.”

 

He takes a deep breath and then his head falls back against the bed. Hank takes this as permission to continue and leans forward until his nose brushes against Connor’s crotch gently. He listens carefully, holding his breath in anticipation to catch every sound that he drags out of the man’s chest. Never one to disappoint, Connor releases a deep sigh and seems to _melt_ into the mattress. 

 

Hank grins as the sound going straight to his neglected cock. He’s not sure how long exactly they’ve been like this but it’s a _while_ , and half-heartedly grinding against the mattress is doing nothing to relieve the painful ache now throbbing across his entire groin. He’s been hard enough to feel the strain for most of the time he’s spent down here, but it’s fine. He’s fine. He can wait.

 

He grips both thighs with his hands and pushes them a little further apart. Connor hisses slightly and the muscles in his legs have to be groaning by now but he doesn’t tell Hank to stop. His head is still tipped back with eyes on the ceiling, but he winds a hand lazily in the hair at the back of Hank’s head. 

 

Hank responds by diving in and licking one long, hot stripe up his slit.

 

Connor keens, hips trying to snap up against Hank’s firm grip on his legs. The muscles twitch under Hank’s fingers again and he groans, laughs, rolls his hips slowly against the mattress and dives in again. It’s easy to let his jaw go slack and lazily slide his tongue between Connor’s lips, inhaling deeply as he presses forward until his nose is flush with Connor’s dick and his tongue is buried as far inside as Hank can manage. It’s clearly enough – Connor’s entrance clamps around him, muscles flexing each time Hank moves his face. He has fun with it for a moment, nuzzling his nose against the small nub of Connor’s dick in time with the slow, rhythmic probing of his tongue. 

 

The time it takes to work Connor up to begging is practically non-existent now. The hand at tangled in Hank’s hair grips tight, pressing him insistently in between Connor’s legs as he lets out a slow whine that drags at the end. He hears soft little pleas and drags his eyes up, moving so that he can wrap his lips around Connor’s dick and roll his tongue against it, sucking nice and gentle. 

 

Connor is sobbing now, gasps of “please” and “Hank” and “yes” and other one-word moans falling out freely. Hank suspects he might not even realise he’s speaking out loud at all. He responds with a slow build of rhythm, tongue rolling slowly and alternating with gentle sucks and grazing teeth that he’s already established sends Connor wild. Connor’s hips are fighting against him again, grinding hard up against the grip that firmly pins his thighs to the bed. 

 

Hank can hold him down one-handed and so he does, readjusting his grip to press against the crest of his hip and hold him flush against the mattress. He would worry about leaving bruises, but he groans louder when Hank presses him down harder. It’s a wanton little sound that makes Hank exhale a soft “fuck” against Connor’s dick before he dives back in. He swallows hard, and closes his mouth around the small nub of nerves. 

 

His now free hand slowly drags up Connor’s thigh, trailing light nonsense patterns against the skin with his short nails. Connor writhes and bucks and Hank holds him down, grins against his crotch, sucks harder. The hand in Hank’s hair grips tight enough to prick tears in his eyes and he thinks Connor might actually hold him down hard enough to stop his breathing. 

 

It wouldn’t be the worst way to go.

 

Hank’s fingers find Connor’s entrance and he sucks harder as one traces gently across his lips. The touch barely grazes the wet entrance, and when Connor sobs out another please he responds, Hank thinks, very kindly. He pushes two fingers straight in and Connor _screams_. 

 

He genuinely thinks Connor might rip the hair out of his head at this point but it doesn’t stop him for a second. Connor has already been fucked open at this point and there isn’t any stretch as Hank slides his fingers inside of the tight, wet entrance. He starts up a relentless pace, deep and fast and hard to contrast the slow and lazy rolls of his tongue against Connor’s dick. 

 

Hank can’t help himself now and grinds his hips against the bed in time with the pace of his fingers. He has come already tonight, earlier to the crescendo of slow lazy thrusts into Connor with the man’s legs draped over his shoulders, but he thinks there is a likely possibility he might manage another one. He finds an angle that works and grinds, hips rolling with a dedication he hadn’t realised he still held. Two in one day, it would be quite an achievement.

 

Things ramp up pretty quickly after that. Connor’s entire body shakes and he begs, pleads, cries out for _something_. His eyes flick up and he can see wet streaks down Connor’s face. He’s crying, he’s holding Hank down in his crotch and struggling against the hand on his hip, clenching around Hank’s fingers and gasping, gasping, breath ceasing entirely – 

 

Two hands grab Hank’s head and he seizes up completely. Connor’s body goes perfectly still save for the muscles twitching involuntarily against Hank’s cheek. When he starts breathing against it’s with a long, raspy groan as his body melts back into the bed. Hank grins and presses a gentle kiss against Connor’s cock that makes the other man twitch tiredly. He sighs softly, breath ghosting over his lips soaking wet crotch. Hank lost count of the times Connor has reached an orgasm (he’s sure that Connor has, he’ll have to ask him later) and it’s left a wet patch in the sheets that they should have anticipated. 

 

It’s a tired effort but Hank manages to stutter out another orgasm, hips twitching and jerking against the mattress as a small amount of cum drips out. He’s proud all the same, and pecks another quick little kiss against Connor’s lips before the man can regain enough motor control to stop him. Hank is grinning as he slowly climbs back up the bed, dropping down next to him heavily. 

 

Connor’s hand finds Hank’s, still slick, and he laces their fingers together. They’re both silent as their chests heave, deep breaths the only sounds that echo in the room. Finally Hank gathers himself enough to roll on his side and take in the sight from this angle, and it’s _gorgeous_.

 

Connor’s cheeks are bright red and his face is flushed. His whole body has a sweaty sheen, his pupils are blown and eyes lidded. He’s still panting hard and his mouth just won’t close fully. His lips are parted a little, and Hank can’t help himself when he leans in to press a quick, chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth.

 

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs against Connor’s face, a rush of pleasure blooming as he feels Connor smile against his lips, “I fuckin’ love you, you know.”

 

“I know,” Connor replies in a breathy whisper, and even without the volume Hank can hear the happiness ringing in his voice. It’s love, love, love. Hank is so damn happy, and it still takes his breath away that he’s been lucky enough to stumble upon this weird little life with this weird little man. “I love you too.”

 

Hank pecks the corner of that smile again, and collapses bodily back onto the mattress. It bounces slightly and Connor sags into his side. They’re quiet, calm, the screaming and pleading that had filled the room only moments ago dulling to something calm and sweet. Hank thinks _this_ might be his favourite sight, actually – Connor, fucked and pleased into a contented silence, relaxed and pliant and radiating joy. 

 

Scratch that, he _knows_ this is his favourite sight.

 

“You know,” Connor is still breathless, voice a little scratchy. It’s a good thing they don’t have any plans to film tomorrow, or he would likely be on the receiving end of grumbling and glares from more than one person. “Niles will be _pissed_ if he finds out we used the GoPro.”

 

Hank almost chokes he laughs so suddenly, burying his face in the pillow and shaking his head slowly. He’d forgotten about that, but he raises his head and sure enough the light is still blinking on the device set up on the headboard.

 

“What he don’t know won’t kill him.”

 

“Well, I hope you know how to delete the recording properly then,” Connor replies, voice far too prim and proper considering the topic of discussion, considering the activities they’d been engaged in all evening. “Because I don’t. I normally get him to do it.”

 

_Fuck._

 

Hank lets out a long, heavy sigh that feels like it rattles his bones and shakes the structure they’re lying in. He doesn’t express this, sure Connor will chalk the rattle up to something else. Finally, he just shrugs and slings an arm across Connor’s waist, grazing his thumb against the bone structure of his hip and smiling. It’s small, gentle. Loving.

 

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

 

 


End file.
